


when they were smaller

by shrimp_princess



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: and leo's scene is a flashback so, raph and donnie are mentioned but i guess they arent explicitly IN it, tcesters do not even look at this i will incinerate you stop being disgusting, this is really just splinter being an anxious dad ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:34:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28586550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrimp_princess/pseuds/shrimp_princess
Summary: Splinter is a dad and he worries about the turtles.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 10





	when they were smaller

Splinter paced the floor. He had tried to sleep for hours, laying there in the darkness, but he was much too anxious. Meditating was supposed to help in times like these, but he knew that was going to be impossible. His sons were in danger. 

Not at the current moment, as they were all asleep in their rooms, but today had been a close call. An ambush out of nowhere--the blasted Foot--and they were all a little beat up. Nothing too big, nothing broken, just a few gashes here and there, but a father’s worry knew no bounds. He hadn’t even known they’d been in danger until they’d gotten home.

He’d done his best to raise them--to protect them and prepare them to protect themselves--but he’d always feared it would never be enough. That someday they might not come home. He would never be able to live with himself. 

It was naive and foolish for him to think they would ever be completely safe, not with the way they were. They hid in the sewers for a reason. But it didn’t stop his heart from experiencing mild to severe distress every time they were in danger. 

(Did rats get heart attacks? Did he have rat organs or human organs? It wasn’t important.)

Splinter paused in front of each of his son’s bedrooms. He didn’t go inside; he was sure they were all peacefully sleeping and he didn’t want to wake them up. Even Donatello’s light was off, which was good. They all needed the rest. 

He couldn’t help but think of a time when they were smaller. They all used to fit in his bed together. He remembered being reluctant to let them all be in bed with him--it was hard to get any sleep with four small bodies rolling around next to you--but now he missed it more than anything. Now they were too big (and too embarrassed) to sleep in his room with him, when he wanted nothing more than to be able to hold them all in his arms again and make them feel safe.

Raphael used to have terrible nightmares. No matter what Splinter did--trying to establish good sleeping habits, teaching him breathing exercises, even making sure his bedroom was the right temperature. Raph was too proud to use a nightlight, too stubborn to ask for help, even has a child. Splinter had given him a journal to document his night terrors, as he refused to talk about them, but he always assured Raphael that he was just down the hall. (If Raph silently climbed into bed with him in the middle of the night, it was neither here nor there.)

Donatello had always been a difficult one as he would never go to sleep. He would get too wrapped up in whatever he was doing and time would elude him. Splinter couldn’t count the times he’d awaken in the middle of the night only to find Donnie’s light still on. Splinter had only let them drink coffee when they turned 13, but he was certain Donnie had somehow been consuming it far earlier than that.

Michelangelo never wanted to be alone. He constantly begged to share a room with any of his brothers, but all of them refused. (He’d once asked Splinter if they could be roommates, but Splinter had to draw the line somewhere. As much as he loved the kid, he didn’t want his room to be cluttered with action figures and comic books and posters and countless other paraphernalia.) Splinter used to have to sit at the end of Mikey’s bed until he fell asleep, which he never really minded. It was the only time Michelangelo would ever actually listen to him, even if he was half asleep. 

And Leonardo had always kept to himself at night, always shut his door and turned off his light at bedtime and wasn’t heard from until breakfast. Splinter had always assumed that Leo never had any difficulties, but one day he asked, “Why don’t I ever see you past bedtime, Leonardo?” 

Leo had looked up at him in confusion. “Because you’re always with the others.”

It had broken Splinter’s heart a little, to think that Leonardo had made himself small and quiet so that the others didn’t have to be. Splinter picked Leo up and held him tightly. “I am always here for you. Always. I love you so much, my son.”

“I know,” Leo had replied, which was relieving to hear. “They just always needed you more than I did.” 

“You are just as important as them. Do you realize this?” 

Leo hadn’t answered, and Splinter had held him tighter. 

Now, the lights were all off. The only sounds were their fans whirring from inside their doors. 

It may be true, Splinter realized, that they didn’t  _ need _ him. He was still trying to grapple with the fact that they weren’t small children anymore.

Suddenly, Michelangelo’s door creaked open, and a tired looking turtle emerged. He froze when he saw Splinter. There were a couple beats of silence before he said quietly, “Uh, dad? It’s kind of weird for you to just be standing there.” 

Splinter smiled a little. “Sorry, my son. I’m anxious about you boys.” 

“Such a worrywart.” Mikey began towards the kitchen. Splinter noticed he was protectively holding his arm close to himself. It wasn’t sprained, he knew, but it must still hurt.

Mikey fumbled around in a drawer for their pain meds. 

Splinter switched on the lights to make it easier for him. “You shouldn’t take those on an empty stomach.”

Mikey looked up at him with the expression only a teenager could muster up. It only lasted a moment, however, before his face broke into a hopeful grin. “Could you make me some soba noodles, then?” 

Splinter knew he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. “Of course,” he said anyway. Food always tasted better when someone else made it.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a TMNT fic since middle school and that was back on Wattpad so it was all around a terrible experience. (I'm better now, I promise.)  
> I have been itching to write more since July though and now I'm finally getting around to it. If you ever want to yell about TMNT to me add me on Tumblr @theycallmebeaker !!


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